Tuesday, September 22, 2009

My Spiritual Growth Spurt Part II


I need to back up a bit.

My mom is from a BIG Catholic family- seven kids (she's the youngest AND the only girl!) Her mother was a devout Catholic so my mom and her siblings were raised that way, but as they grew up some fell away from the faith completely and others remained Catholic by name only and entered their "dark years." (Hey, that's what they call it!)

However, as I was being my regular teenage self, my mom, brother and some of my uncles were slowly re-discovering their Catholic faith. My mom and I call the year 2000 "The Year of Holiness." That was the year I was confirmed (and when we started going back to church), the year my older brother was confirmed and when he had his marriage blessed (he had been married years earlier at a court house.) My uncle Alan had been reading the Catholic author Scott Hahn and watching the Catholic channel EWTN and started to really learn what the Catholic faith was about.

In 2001 my uncle Dave's wife passed away from cancer. It was around that time that I noticed him also getting into the faith, although I'm sure it started earlier while his beloved wife was sick. Uncle Dave started giving me books about Catholicism, mostly dealing with purity and chastity. I always gave a big smile, thanked him but then shoved them in my bookshelf and forgot about it.

OK, so where was I...? Oh yes. College. *Sigh*
A disclaimer: This story may seem like an over-exaggerated case of home sickness. Trust me, it wasn't home sickness.

My senior year of high school I decided to attend Central Missouri State University in Warrensburg. Quite a few of us 2003-ers were going there and I didn't want to go to Northwest Missouri State University. That was just too close to home. I was going to major in theater and was planning on joining a sorority. I had my life all planned out. It seemed like a solid plan. It was stability. (I know, I'm laughing too.)

I was seriously dating someone at the time, and even though he was at a college a couple hours away from me I was certain our romance would survive the distance. (Now I'm REALLY laughing!) I said good bye to Tarkio and moved my starry-eyed-self to Warrensburg on August 15th.

College started out great. I got into a great sorority with one of my really good friends. I lived on a co-ed floor of the dorm and met new and interesting people. I was drinking and partying for the first time in my life, and it was fun and exciting for me. In high school while hanging out with friends my wardrobe contained hoodies and jeans. Now I was wearing tube tops, skirts and heels that could kill. I was on my own, no parent to tell me what to do. Church and God definitely took a back seat to my life at this time.

Classes started on August 20 but wasn't interested in learning.

And from there things started going downhill.

I realized there was a huge project assigned in one of my theater classes, but since I wasn't going to class I didn't know the details and was far behind. I was totally lost in my math class and even though this nerdy but sweet guy named Will tried to help me, I just freaked out and gave up. I was having other problems with other people, rumors and secrets, but prefer not to go into those details.

The following weeks I really started freaking out. Going to college costs big bucks, and I was basically wasting money by not going to class. I spent all my time trying to think of how to stop the rumor about me, worrying about my crumbling relationship with my boyfriend, and figuring out how to get caught up in class. I had dug myself into a huge hole that seemed impossible to get out of. I was scared, lonely and full of anxiety. I asked for help on a couple occasions, but they were too busy with their own problems to give me advice.

I remember sitting in one of the lobbies of my dorm just lost and confused. I would see people walk in and out- out to party, out to study, out to hang out with friends and I felt jealous of them. I was so depressed and becoming somebody I didn't like or respect anymore. I simply hated myself.

For the first time in a long time I prayed to God for help and guidance. After that I made one of the biggest decisions of my life- I decided to quit college.

On my birthday I withdrew from CMSU, packed up my little Sunfire and moved away.

But I was Miss Tarkio High School, I was student body president, I got good grades- this wasn't like me at all either. But at home I would feel safer and far away from the terrible heartache and anxiety that I felt everyday at CMSU. Another disclaimer: CMSU is a great school and 95% of the people there were wonderful. I just felt I didn't belong.

Boy was my mom FURIOUS with me for quitting college. I mean I swear she had fire blowing out of her ears. I had friends of mine at CMSU try and call me to reason with me, but I didn't want to hear their argument. I heard of my high school teachers being shocked and disappointed that I had quit college.

Sometimes I wondered if my choice was a huge mistake. But I knew in my heart that if I needed to go back, I would have been given a sign to return. I never got that sign. Was it foolish of me to just give up? Should I have just endured all the crap that was going on there? In hindsight I know it was the right choice. But back then I was plagued with doubt.

I crashed on my best friend's futon in her teeny tiny studio apartment for awhile in Maryville, MO. We both started working at a nursing home in town. We had a blast together. My relationship with my boyfriend was slowly mending. While those at college were trying to figure out how to survive midterms, I was trying to figure out my life. But I was in no hurry. Even though I wasn't going to Mass, my prayer life was a bit more active since I was wanting the Lord to tell me exactly what to do with my life.

Then something happened that October to rock my world once again.

My dear Uncle Mick had been taken to the hospital. He had slowly become weaker due to his emphysema, and it looked like all those years of smoking caught up with him. I took off work and rushed to the hospital and he seemed fine. He looked tired, but was still cracking jokes. But the doctor wasn't sugar coating anything- he needed to be transported to Kansas City. This was serious.

He was driven partially by ambulance and then life-flighted to St. Luke's in Kansas City. We were told he needed a risky surgery. His daughters were scared. My mom was scared. We all were scared. I felt helpless, so I went to the chapel to pray.

This was the hardest I had ever prayed in my entire life. I prayed for God to save my Uncle Mick's life. In addition to my brother he was a key father-figure in my life. He was the only uncle who lived in Tarkio. He was my mom's best friend and the brother she was closest to. He was always around to make us smile and laugh and he always sang little songs that got stuck in our heads. He was the chief of police in our tiny town and everyone loved him. He inspired my brother to be a police officer. How could God take him away? I bargained with God. I pleaded with Him. I believed in miracles. And I was certain God would give us a miracle.

Unfortunately my prayers were not answered. I got off work late and I listened to the voicemail from my brother to call him or mom. He had passed away surrounded by his daughters and other family members.

The next few weeks were a blur. I decided to move back home with mom. I went to Mass with her on Sundays but really did not want to be there. I was so mad at God. Why didn't he answer my prayers for Mick's miraculous recovery? I knew I wasn't the only one praying. It wasn't like I was praying to win the lottery or something. It wasn't fair that God granted miracles to other people but not our family.

I knew that Mick was in a better place, but what about the rest of us? What about his young daughters? What about my mom? We loved him too and wanted him with us. He had always been a part of our lives and now that he was gone, life was not the same.

Christmas came that year and it was a sad one. My family and Mick's family would always go to Midnight Mass together.

The year was ending and I was still mad at God and was holding a grudge against him. But then I read this wonderful book, "A Travel Guide to Heaven" and softened my anger toward the Lord. I vowed the year 2004 was going to be a good year.


Things got worse before they got better.





















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